


today's bond ( tomorrow's blood )

by vakrokyrr



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, M/M, OH. there's also a brief bullying mention by taka? they don't linger on it much but it does happen, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, She/Her Pronouns for Fujisaki Chihiro, Toxic Masculinity, Trans Character, Trans Owada Mondo, as in. daiya is dead and depending on how you interpret the ending., boy howdy there is a lot of that thanks mondo, i just wanted to write cute soulmate bs but instead i got mondo's self loathing, there's also fluff but man this fic got super out of hand?, this is heavily mondo-centric sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28599582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vakrokyrr/pseuds/vakrokyrr
Summary: It would be nice to believe that fate is not dictating his every move.
Relationships: Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	today's bond ( tomorrow's blood )

**Author's Note:**

> happy new years everyone!!! i am two for two on long dr fics that happen to mention both blood and bond in the title. wild.  
> this was supposed to be the last fic of the year but life happened. so now it's the first fic of this year and hopefully it will not take me months to finish another fic. this was supposed to be a quick short fluff that i started back in october, but things got out of hand and i started projecting and. here we are 15k more words than this was intended to be? i'm sorry that my first proper ishimondo is angst :/
> 
> my very quick disclaimer: i am nonbinary. i have not experienced the same kinds of dysphoria and struggles that a trans person would. i am projecting some of my experiences onto mondo, but i'm not claiming that any of that ( nor any of the misogynistic bs ) mondo exhibits is representative of trans peoples experiences okay? okay.
> 
> please head the tags!! some of them are more heavily present than others but that's what happens when the depression kicks in.

Red is the color of the felt tip pen that he steals from Kiyotaka Ishimaru.

...Well, to say he is stealing it is technically incorrect— taking it without permission, borrowing, whatever you want to call it, he has no intention of keeping the damn thing permanently, so it is not outright theft as far as he is concerned. Even if Mondo is pretty sure the prefect would not actually mind since it’s him and he has several others perfectly good markers to use. Despite the fact that he would most certainly notice if even one pen went missing; even if he would not ever bring it up, regardless of being friends or not. That is exactly the kind of person he is: one might say that he is a pushover, but he would disagree. Kiyotaka is far from that, he is just kind; so much kinder than most of his peers have yet to realize.

Which, okay, he will acknowledge he is speaking from a place of bias. Because once, he knows for a fact that Kiyotaka would not have held back on pointing out something as petty as a missing pen because Mondo is a delinquent and that is exactly the kind of behavior he would expect from a delinquent like him and Mondo would cuss him out and probably prove his point. Even then, however, as poorly as his intentions came across, it’d be hard to deny that his actions didn’t come from a good place. _Because I believe that you can be better_ , or some sappy bullshit along those lines, is probably what Kiyotaka would say.

Whatever, things are different now, even if he might rub it in on occasion about how wrong ( some ) of his assumptions were. It’s a pot calling kettle black sort of situation, and not that Mondo isn't aware of how massively hypocritical he is ( he’s almost hyper-aware of that fact, thank you tiny voice in his brain dedicated to pointing out his every flaw ). Kiyotaka could make the same kind of remarks back, in a more or less lighthearted manner, he knows this. He won’t, that’s not really the kind of guy that he is. Perhaps that is just another reason why he is the better one, between the of them.

( Some of his points have been more spot on than he hopes Kiyotaka will ever know )

He’s getting off track here. Point is, he won’t notice nor mind one measly pen temporarily being in his possession, not when he’s much more focused on the homework that Mondo’s supposed to be doing right now.

...Yeah, okay, not quite the same assignment because Kiyotaka always seems to be ahead of the curve and has probably already finished that homework ages ago. Not that it should be a surprise to anyone that one of Hope Peak’s top students, one with the kind of prestige and ‘legacy’ that Kiyotaka has, naturally spends much of his time doing exactly what one might expect of his title: studying. Keeping up grades, upholding some sense of order, attending to his responsibilities; all because he cares about that bullshit.

Mondo, of course, does not, given that he has never really cared about school— perhaps it is that he couldn’t really find it in him to care at this point. In a way, this school is not so different from his previous ones, really ( read: they have given up on him, but not his talent. How ironic ). Sometimes, Kiyotaka makes him wish that he could have that same kind of passion. But he’s too stupid for that. It just doesn’t click for him.

( Sometimes he feels bad to be adding onto that, selfishly wasting his time because no one else has ever bothered trying to make an effort to...help, he supposes. The gang might be a family, but a leader isn’t supposed to need help; and everything that stands for is his own burden to bear. He feels like that does not sufficiently describe the lengths Kiyotaka goes to, however— the full scope of his actions, and not just because they are friends either )

Irregardless, Mondo doesn’t mind it when half the time they spend together is spent studying ( ‘studying’, in Mondo's case ). Well, not at this point in their friendship, anyways, even if he still thinks he deserves more time to relax. But as Kiyotaka would put it; it is always a manner of using time efficiently, and although he thinks time spent with friends is not exactly something that needs to be ‘efficient', he understands there’s a certain method to his manners. One of these days, he’ll come up with a convincing counterargument and get him to loosen up more than they already have gotten him to. Actually take a break for once. Maybe he can ask Chihiro to help him to come up with something that doesn’t sound...entirely stupid.

Kiyotaka is focused on revising a paper for one of their classes, not yet due for a good while, as far as he’s aware. The other would probably be appalled to know that Mondo has not even thought about it, much less tried to outline it yet, or whatever else he would consider proper preparation instead of his usual ‘just rush through it and get something out’ strategy— but whatever, that'll be his own problem to deal with eventually. It feels far off enough in his mind that he can prioritize other things for now.

He would say it doesn’t really matter ( because quite truthfully, it doesn’t ), but Kiyotaka would probably be disappointed in him for not making an effort in his studies, and for some reason that disappointment hurts. He has disappointed so many people before; he expects that won’t ever change, even if he doesn’t know how he’s manged to not severely fuck things up with the gang yet. But he’ll probably fuck it all up on his own terms eventually, so says the nagging lack of self-esteem that echoes in his head.

He only prays he can manage to bring down Kiytoaka’s expectations of him down a little before then, so he doesn’t crush his spirits entirely.

If he considers putting his pride aside for more than a couple of seconds, he might even be able to get Kiyotaka to help him out a bit with it— after lecturing him for putting it off his work, of course, but he wouldn't have it any other way too nice. Granted, while he would probably be happy to help ( or at least not entirely opposed ), it does make Mondo feel somewhat bad if he really thinks about it: to have to add another thing to his already rather full schedule and most likely be taking away from his own study time in doing so, so Mondo reckons he’ll have to manage on his own as per usual, even if Kiyotaka insists that he can help him at any moment if he needs it. Maybe he’ll take out some of his work out near the end of their scheduled ‘study’ time and get him to help him with it a little, just so that he can technically say he’s done something.

Alternatively, maybe he’ll take Kiyotaka’s advice for once and have something that resembles organized structure in his life and not put it off entirely and manage to squeak by with something like a passing grade. Higher than what he’s used to getting, at any rate. Yeah, that’d be good. It’d probably please Kiyotaka if he managed that. Not that he’s exactly trying to go out of his way to please him, because he’s never been a people pleaser, hates that kind of fakeness. Which is pretty hypocritical to say, he can admit that much; so he would say that there is one exception to the layered facade called Mondo Oowada that will always try and please— he has already let people down, so at the very least, he can’t break that promise that he made.

It’s not like he’s trying to prove shit at this point either.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t understand ( he doesn’t know, but he understands ) the pressure that Kiyotaka feels trying to live up to a tarnished name and the weight on his shoulders knowing that opinions, expectations: there are things to live up to. And knowing just how disappointing he might end up being; that disappointment, maybe they let that pressure weigh on them more than either of them really should. Unhealthy expectations for sure, but to say that Mondo’s never been good at handling that kind of stuff in a healthy manner would still be an understatement.

Ironically, he’s weak when it comes to those matters.

Okay, well, maybe that’s not entirely true. Mondo always feels like he has to prove himself to everyone, that is just compulsion that is ingrained into him at this point. All his damn posturing from before they were friends could be said to be him trying to prove himself too. But at this point in their friendship, he really doesn’t need to, and he really doesn’t feel like he has to prove a point like he would with, for example, a rival gang. The way he feels like he should prove himself is different; not necessarily healthier, but different. Like he wants to prove to himself, too, that maybe some of Kiyotaka’s expectations of him are right.

Mondo knows that he’s wrong. Kiyotaka is so, _so_ wrong on this one, he just doesn’t know any better. Ideally, things will stay that way; if not forever, then at least for now. You just hope you can maybe help him as much as he has helped you, but that’s a lot to wrap his head around. Also nigh impossible for someone as stupid as he is, but it’s a lingering thought that sticks in his mind. Not for any sort of gain, and not because there’s inherently something wrong with him as he is. Mainly because Mondo fears that he will burn himself out without ever realizing until it's too late and run himself into the ground; which would be a shame because he thinks he’s the one with the loftiest goals of all of them, as well as the one he thinks is mostly likely to get there. Or the one he’d want to see succeed the most. Same difference.

Besides, it’s not like he’s doing it for some kind of selfless reason. Sure, making his ‘kyodai’ proud is pretty self-serving in itself, since he finds himself chasing the thrill of the warm feeling it leaves him with. Which is not to say he would not do so regardless, but something about the flutter in his chest when he can get him to smile over seemingly trivial matters is...nice, to say the least ( and its certainly not weak to admit that much, shut the fuck up ). Even if it feels a bit out of character for him at times, it’s not in a bad way: maybe contrary to the image he’s built of himself as a tough gang leader, but otherwise never anything bad. Because unlike him, Kiyotaka isn’t a bad person, so of course it is only good things that bring him pleasure; and for a brief moment he can fool himself into thinking he’s a good person. A bad person wouldn’t be able to make someone like him happy.

Bad people have crushed and trampled all over him, or have tried to— and maybe even he had, once, in the beginning, before he’d really gotten to know him. Looked at that stubborn spirit and seemingly naive optimism and wanted to lash out, out of bitter jealousy of everything that he is not. He’s like a damn dandelion because even then he still remains strong and rebounds like it’s nothing: except it’s not nothing, just another part of him that he admires and envies in the same breath.

And even that feels a bit selfish, sometimes. Making him happy to satisfy that small part of his ego that demands that kind of attention that he reserves for just him. The way he looks up to him cuts him deep in the same way that it satiates his ego, makes him think _of course, that's the way it should be_. They are equals, after all ( can he really claim to be equals when he is still hiding parts of himself away? He doesn’t think he deserves to consider himself equal when he’s being a weak coward ). But really— he doesn’t quite get why he’s the one that can make him happy like **that** , but selfishly, he doesn’t mind if it stays like this for now.

He really is doomed to repeat his past mistakes.

Anyways. The point that he was trying to make here before he got distracted on that spiraling train of thought is that his friend is far more engrossed with his own work than anything else to really take note of the fact that Mondo’s slacking off again— or anything else he is doing in particular, thankfully. He is not what most people would consider scary, and given his own image as a rough and tough gang leader, he’s pretty sure calling him scary would make himself look weak; Kiyotaka can definitely be particularly intimidating when it comes to matters he’s especially serious about. Granted, there isn’t much that he doesn’t take seriously, and arguably too seriously; but he means things like his studies and the importance in partaking in such particular measures of effort. He has learned his lesson in this particular regard and knows well enough that he should try to leave him be; again, one of these days he will figure out how to successfully get him to ease up a bit. But today is not that day, so he makes an attempt to preoccupy his mind with something while causing the least amount of disruption possible.

And sure enough, those intense red eyes ( unfortunately ) don’t even spare a glance in his direction when Mondo snags one of his nice felt pens from his bag. Kiyotaka doesn't so much as bat an eye at the gesture, not even to tell him to make sure he puts it back in his bag when he’s done: either that, or he takes great faith that Mondo can be trusted to remember of his own accord. Which, it is always greatly flattering to be reminded of how highly he thinks of him, as ‘equals’; but incorrect all the same ( but it is sometimes hard to know he thinks better of him than he actually deserves, and sometimes that’s enough to make him want to spill his guts about all the skeletons buried deep in the closet ).

Obviously, he does not actually need a pen for anything important, given that he’s pointedly not doing anything related to schoolwork— but it gives his hands something that isn’t tapping against the tabletop in a manner that would surely get his attention. And then by extension, a scolding. Also keeping his hands full assures him that he cannot be too tempted to reach out towards him in any sort of manner; while he opts to avoid his homework for the time being by studying his best friend instead. In a strictly platonic manner, mind you.

Because there is obviously nothing not platonic thinking about the fact that accidentally upsetting him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world because when not actually angry, he thinks it’s a little endearing the way he scolds him— because Kiyotaka cares, it’s a reminder of how much goodness he holds within him— and he always ends up sulking and that’s cute but you will never hear him admit that aloud, _if you dare repeat that to him you are dead Kuwata_ —

And while he would reprimand him for not doing his work, he would also not complain in indulging him in a half-hug or something. Maybe let him hold his hand, since they’re sitting across from each other. That’d be cool. Very platonically, of course. Super platonically, totally normal friendship.

( Yeah okay, he knows he’s not fooling anyone, especially not himself, and if he’s only managed to keep he from figuring that out so far, he’ll happily keep it that way. He is so far from normal in every way, even if Kiyotaka treats him like that isn’t the case. At least there is nothing inherently romantic about his intentions that might’ve tipped him off, as far as he can tell; and that’s for the best, really )

God, he sounds like such a girl ( _because you are one_ , that awful part of his mind snarks ), and some part of him that isn’t totally driven by the need to seem so manly and strong all the time isn’t entirely opposed to that thought. If only the rest of him could get on the same page and swallow his pride and accept that maybe sometimes he is allowed to show something other than strong all the time.

It’s always been in his favor that Kiyotaka warmed up to such blatant affection as part of their friendship— it’d been something he had initially done subconsciously. And then had quickly backtracked on such when he had picked up on the fact that it didn’t make him too comfortable, which was perfectly reasonable and natural, even when it turned out they are both people that could be described as ‘touch-starved’. As if nothing had happened, Kiyotaka had started initiating more friendly contact on his own terms, so he figured that was his way of saying that it was okay and slowly eased into making it a regular habit. He didn’t entirely get the reason, but whatever; he trusts that Kiyotaka will stop him if he ever crosses the line with him— if nothing else, even if he’d never take it out on him in a violent manner, he knows Kiyotaka can and will stand up for himself. Almost too well, he nearly winces at the memory ( and the subsequent knowledge as to **why** he’d be practiced in that particular manner ).

If it’d been anyone else other than him, it’d probably would’ve felt like a bit of a blow to his ego at how quick he’d gone down, instead of eating his pride in order to humbly admit defeat and praise him for his handwork.

All that said and done, it’s not like he’d notice if it was...not platonic in any nature either; for better or for worse. Kiyotaka seemed practically blind to such things when it was staring at him straight in the face, or he was set on purposefully ignoring it, which didn’t quite seem like something he’d do— not that he knew this from personal experience, of course. Definitely not a memory that feels almost bitter, even if he doesn’t hold it against Kiyotaka, because he’s trying to be better and he’s not responsible for Mondo’s repressed emotional issues and the fact he probably needs to see a therapist. Or multiple. And deal with other related issues that he was keen on not acknowledging anytime soon. Whatever, that shit was weak and not going to help him with that particular self-inflicted issue...or right now, at any rate.

If he was taking advantage of the fact Kiyotaka had his nose buried deep in papers and otherwise focused on the tasks he’d assigned himself and probably wouldn’t be shaken from it unless an actual disaster struck, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that the biker let his gaze linger longer than was usually socially acceptable. Thank god that Kiyotaka is far from well versed in what is usually considered normal, if he did happen to catch him, or if nothing else, seemingly willing to let such pass when it was with him.

Maybe because in turn, he’s caught red eyes staring at him intensely, not even a little bit of hesitation in that unwavering stare, doesn’t even look ashamed to have been caught and just continues staring at him like it’s perfectly natural to do so. Like he has seen through his act and it is so much that he always flusters and looks away.

( Eyes are the window to the soul, they say, and he really wonders how many truths he has actually successfully hidden from him )

At least for today, they are in the privacy of his room, far from the prying eyes and leering grins of their peers. Jackasses. Not that it would really make a difference; Kiyotaka is always too focused on what’s right in front of him, that he seems to miss out on the bigger picture at times, much to his own exasperation. It’s not his fault Mondo is a coward that cannot bring himself to be more forward. Too focused on what everyone else is thinking, how they are perceiving him. Weak weak weak _**strong**_ — he feels like a ticking time bomb, and when his fuse finally goes off and he loses his grip over everything he’s trying to bottle up, he can only hope he’s gotten Kiyotaka far, far away from him. He can ruin everything else, ( almost ) everyone else, but not him; he does not deserve to get caught up in that fallout.

( The worst part is knowing— it feels bad to know he’d probably smile and insist he didn’t mind, even if directly caught up in the shitstorm, that it was okay. Oh sure, he could avoid it coming to that; make things change, or perhaps lessen the impact if he can’t avoid the inevitable, eventual fallout. That would require confronting that which he has already said he refuses to really acknowledge. He will be a coward to the very end, even if it not so literally kills him to do so. He’s personally fine with knowing that. It feels fitting enough for him, but that doesn’t entirely stop him from hoping for something different in the end )

He shakes his head to himself, an almost unnoticeable movement. That’s enough getting into his own head for a hot minute. Back to observing Kiyotaka being himself.

In his opinion, it’s part of his charm when he looks all focused, brows furrowed in a way that isn’t entirely all unlike his default expression; there is a subtle difference, in the dedication and passion that he has in the moment, in the way his mouth sets firmly. Unsurprisingly, Kiyotaka is usually pretty easy to read as a whole, the way he wears his emotions on his sleeve— about as open as open books get, and Mondo quite frankly usually sucks ass at reading. Well. For the most part, at least. About being open, that is. There is no doubt that Mondo is bad at reading people almost as much as he is terrible at reading words. Like, he can read people, but sometimes he just jumps to the wrong assumption. It’s not really a good trait for a leader, but he was never really meant to be gang leader, was he?

...Anyways. He’s mostly certain that Kiyotaka isn’t keeping many secrets if only because he sucks at hiding that kind of shit. It is generally one of the traits that Mondo finds most admirable, even if he’s too honest for his own good at times. He doesn’t hide behind his words like he does ( or cannot do so, maybe ), and so maybe that’s one of the things he fears the most when everything eventually comes to light. He will not hide even a little bit of his reaction to finding out, and he does not think he can bear to know truthfully what Kyotaka will think of him in that moment, good or bad.

( If he thinks poorly of him, he will be confirming what Mondo has known all along, deep inside— if he takes it somewhat good, then. Well. He doesn’t really even humor the possibility because Kiyotaka is smarter than that. And also because admittedly, he will not know what to think if he can excuse _**that**_ )

Right, back to— what had started this train of thoughts again? Right, right, this was about him borrowing one of his pens. Kiyotaka won’t notice, so it’s fine...yeah, he’s not just talking about pens anymore. Selfishly, Mondo will insist that his situation is fine as it is, even if it feels deceitful to have to bite back his tongue when Kiyotaka has only ever offered him his fullest honesty in return. It’s not like he asked for it. But those are just more excuses that don’t justify his actions, but Kiyotaka will give him an inch and he will take a mile and run with it and just to see how much he can keep him ignorant about.

Really, it is a blessing and a curse that he will always pay more attention to his studies than the people in the room— the uncanny ability to pick up on some things unequivocally in one moment, and completely miss the mood of the room the next. Or perhaps he’s just bitter about things he cannot completely blame him for, because he knows Kiyotaka hates these things about himself sometimes and would probably hold it against himself if ever given the option. It’s not a bad thing; frustrating sure, but coming from him that’s not saying much. He knows his own fuse is always too short and he’s got his own fair share of flaws that frustrates both of them. Technically, he’s working on it. Kiyotaka says he’s improved from the beginning of the year, when the two of them could hardly say more than one sentence to each other before they’d start bickering, but he doesn’t entirely believe it sometimes. But that might be because Mondo's much better at running away from things than confronting the truth ( another thing he envies about Kiyotaka, who faces things head on. Not without hesitation, he knows that’s the human part of him, that vulnerability; but his confidence never lets that part be seen by most people ).

Mondo focuses his gaze away from his friend— his _**kyodai**_ , he will emphasize this and remind himself he is lucky to have that much when he doesn’t deserve it— averts his gaze before he can notice. It would be his luck that either Kiyotaka would notice and scold him for it; or a potentially worse scenario, he might actually pick up on something that Mondo does not mean to be revealing. Even if he could argue that studying his friend is a great use of time and a far more practical skill to have, he knows that is not an excuse he can say: let alone be an excuse that he will accept— well, not without questioning, at least. If nothing else, Kiyotaka will call him out on his bullshit, with a somewhat kind bluntness. He settles on forcing his eyes to the pen in his hand with a frown.

Maybe there was just something he was missing ( and when isn’t that the case? You are too dumb for everything and anyone who says otherwise is just fooling themselves ), but it just doesn’t add up right to him. He knows there’s something, some kind of important meaning behind it and all that, but he’s always thought it was kind of _jarring_ , the way red ink stands out. Marking up mistakes and flaws like it is a test to see how much pale parchment can be blemished, because red was the color of death—

( Did they think death was a mistake? The ending of someone’s life was tragic— a mistake, **his** was a mistake, someone might have thought that, if they knew the truth; but Mondo would not lump those things together when he knew the only one making mistakes then had been himself, as per usual.

Well, okay. Deep down he thinks it is a mistake that he was spared, but that would be conceding that Daiya made a mistake in saving him— and accepting that would mean having to put their actions on similar levels as mistakes and he doesn’t really have the mental fortitude to try to not conflate these things. He is the one with flaws that run so deep that he’s sure if it were to be marked up on a paper like one of Kiyotaka’s essay drafts, you’d hardly be able to see what had originally been there )

Red was death and blood and it was a curse, they said; it was supposed to be damning to write names in ( blood ) red pens: so then why is it that they take no issue with correcting every error in that same shade? Maybe it's simply that it has always felt like an eyesore to him— never failing to point out each of his faults, as if to remind him he isn’t free of the consequences for every shitty choice he makes.

Perhaps it is less of a reminder and more of a warning; that he is knocking on death’s door with every mistake he makes in this goddamn life because he is only human but he is surely the worst kind of human. As if his conscious isn’t mocking him at any given moment for his fuckups, _if only he could be like someone that he’s not, why can’t he be more like his brother—_

( He isn’t Daiya— he can’t be him, and never will be. But he never messed up like Mondo did, nothing had gone to shit while Daiya was still around: so **of course** why wouldn't Mondo want to aspire to be like him, when for as long as he can remember, those comparisons were all that had ever been breathed down his neck. People had only seen a ~~girl~~ child trying to imitate their older brother and maybe people weren’t entirely wrong but sometimes it’s hard to live as someone you aren’t and feels entirely too refreshing to be seen as himself for once )

There is a slight ache in his hands ( _weak_ ) and realizes that in all his internalized frustration, he’s been clenching his hands a little tightly. It’s probably only by some unusual luck that he hasn't managed to snap the pen in half and loosens his grip before the plastic gives way. For his own sake, he would like to prove to himself that he can do things that do not end with him ruining them and breaking things apart, red ink staining his hands as a reminder of demons he cannot escape.

Besides, he can more or less imagine how that would play out: with Kiyotaka more upset over the fact that Mondo might have hurt himself in doing so than the fact that he has broken one of his pens. And also that he would probably stubbornly refuse to let him try and make it up to him, _asshole take the goddamn pen, he doesn’t care if you have extras_ —

Red reminds him of everything that has gone wrong in his life— and it serves as a reminder for all the good that remains, despite how much he doesn’t deserve it. Red is the summer sky, vibrant as the boy named after the season: red eyes, red armbands, fiery spirit. Red, red, _red—_ he doesn’t think there’s anything about Kiyotaka that doesn’t make him think of that color; if only that he exemplifies a purer red than the one Mondo usually thinks of. Perhaps, just maybe, even the fire forged bond that they share might be a brilliant crimson.

...Of course, if you were to ask him, he’d deny putting stock into that kind of girly bullshit. In theory. Because the only kind of bond they would share is friendship, of course. Because they are both guys and anything else would be weird. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to believe in such, sometimes, because that would be a bold faced lie ( not like he isn’t good at being a hypocrite ). But that’s weak; it would be weak to admit that some part of him has even considered desiring such. More importantly: an unbreakable bond— now that would be asking too much. He doesn’t deserve that much. Connected by something that could go beyond destiny? As if.

Again, he doesn’t like to think of himself like a girl; like the kind of person obsessed with girly, romantic things like **soulmates** , but sometimes it sounds nice to think something like fate might let him have one last good thing in this life. To want to believe in something like fate and that no matter how badly he fucks up— no matter what, he could confess to some of the things he holds deepest in his chest and maybe he’d still have Kiyotaka in the end.

( Well, that might be a little bit of a lie. There is something frustrating about the thought that by that line of logic, maybe not even the relationships in his life are something he has any say or control over, but it’s best to not think of it like that. He could prove that— he can prove that to be false by how fast everything falls apart. Right.

If fate was real, then why was Daiya dead? Checkmate. Absolutely incorrect logic, but who was going to correct him? Himself? Not likely. Like hell he was going to tell anyone else the truth just to be corrected on this one )

Either way, a nice thought, but not realistic. Both in the fact that’s not how that’d realistically work out, and in that Mondo doesn’t think he’d ever be caught dead being that vulnerable ( even with Kiyotaka ). Even if he could ever let himself admit all that emotional baggage that he should’ve dropped off with a therapist after Daiya’s death; it’s presumptuous to think that Kiyotaka could excuse that. Even if he’d try to come up with some kind of ( flawed ) reasoning, he shouldn’t have to make up excuses for his own missteps. Besides, he reminds himself, Kiyotaka is smarter than that. Logically speaking: why would he side with him? He could, but shouldn’t. He shouldn’t have to be there just because Mondo is stupid and never learned how to not fuck up shit life; and will keep his mouth shut with every secret buried deep inside, because he will inevitably screw up again and ruin the good things he has going for him here—

And part of him wants to fuck it up if only to prove that he hasn’t hit rock bottom yet and could manage to still disapoint Kiyotaka somehow, and would hope that he’d finally give up on him by that point. Maybe because some part of him might feel some kind of twisted satisfaction by proving that he is not even worth his **efforts**. But mostly because he is torn over the thought he’d even consider sticking by him and he hates it because he doesn’t think Kiyotaka deserves to have to be dragged to the pits of hell with him.

( In fact, he can almost guess the logical fallacy that Kiyotaka’s thought process would probably follow: if you put in the effort to do your best to not fuck up, it is far less likely for you to mess up. That kind of logic works for someone like Kiyotaka, but it would be wrong to apply it to someone like him because in the end, Mondo is just a fuckup )

Depends on how he fucks things up, he supposes, maybe he’ll disappoint Daiya’s dead soul first— no, scratch that: if his brother could see him now, he’d probably be disappointed in what he’s done with himself, what he’s done with his pointless sacrifice. And it’s not like failing his brother is new to him by any stretch, as far as he’s concerned, but somehow that one feels a little more bearable in his mind.

Part of him isn’t entirely sure if it's better or worse that Daiya is dead and he’ll never actually have to see ( or hear ) his disappointment and just imagine it in the back of his mind instead to make up for it. Haha just kidding, he knows it is worse because deep down Mondo can’t shake off the feeling that he is ruining Daiya’s name and memory and wishes, and all of it weighs on him with his guilt. At least when he lets Kiyotaka down, it is only temporary— if he promises to do better ( and he does at least make an attempt if nothing else ), then Kiyotaka will accept it for what it is, encourage him, blindly believe that he will keep to his word even if his track record would probably suggest that he shouldn’t put so much faith into his words. Even if making those promises ( as men ), he dreads knowing inevitably he will slip up and at some point he will get sick of him for being like this, won’t he?

In the end, he is weak and he cannot change this about himself. So he keeps his mouth shut, at least for now. He will fuck up because he is doomed to repeat the past, as he has done so many times before, but he will at least try his damn best to keep shit together this time around. Despite the fact—

Mondo’s train of thought comes to a full stop upon feeling his arm dragging along the surface of the table, and— uh, well, if it were only that, then he really wouldn’t be making a deal of it, would he? Even if it takes him a moment to process the fact and kind of just watches for a moment, since apparently ( or at least, as far as he can tell ) Kiyotaka hasn’t noticed, engrossed in his own task in his own little world.

He’s not entirely sure when they’d started holding hands, perhaps he’d put his free hand down on the table at some point— he’s had enough on his mind as it is with how anxious he is; or maybe it’s because it’s not really a feeling that feels out of place, that he hadn’t noticed sooner than he does. Even if, quite truthfully, most people would’ve thought the lack of contact between them would be more eyebrow raising than any particularly intimate gesture. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for them to be...particularly affectionate friends by most people’s standards: and again he has to be thankful for the fact that Kiyotaka does not care for these kind of judgements, if only because Mondo is stupidly selfish about knowing with certainty that this is a pattern of behavior that makes him happy.

He can’t help but hone in on the feeling of his fingers, for a moment— hand holding might be a bit of an exaggeration actually, with how their hands are barely touching. Hand just barely hanging on, pinky curled around his: as if the other knows just the way he’s got Mondo twisted around his finger to his every desire. His hands aren’t soft like ( most ) girls, but not all roughed up like his; calloused from fights and the need to prove himself strong. Like a real man. There is slight roughness to Kiyotaka’s hands, evidence of how harsh the world has been to him. Or maybe that’s just the healing papercut from the other day.

Given how much he is overthinking this, someone would think that hand holding was unusual even by their standards, but really— it’s just that he is a **logical** person, and in turn his actions come with logical reasoning. Even if Kiyotaka’s idea of skinship probably edges the line a bit; there’s usually some purpose, some excuse at hand for why such an action shouldn’t be misconstrued as anything but friendly, and not...whatever you’d call this feeling he can’t quite place. Like, odd— strangely intimate, almost, but he’s definitely reading into it too much, because again he is selfish in wanting things he doesn’t have the courage to voice. He reasons with himself that he just happened to subconsciously sense his distress without realizing it. Yeah. That’s it.

( That’s probably not it because he’s too dumb to actually figure shit out, but he’s fine with lying to himself if it means he can stop thinking about it )

Anyways, that aside, Mondo amuses himself watching him— since he’s pretty sure that Kiyotaka hasn’t noticed but should soon cause he’s going to need his other hand any minute now. Which he’s proven correct on as he sees him come to a stop when attempting to use both hands only to realize one is already preoccupied with his hand in his. Eyes meet his own curiously: to his credit, he doesn’t flinch or pull back, the normal kind of confidence Kiyotaka seems to hold with himself. More notably, he does seem to fluster a little in his own surprise; though it comes across more as uncertainty in how to react than any kind of embarrassment. Mhm. That’s all it is.

“Mondo?” He sounds a little hesitant, a moment to figure out what he wants to voice— Mondo’s own nerves manage to catch up to him and he tries to pull back; but this only results in Kiyotaka tightening his own grip, leaning in to fill the gap. “Mondo? Is everything all right? Did you need something?” Even if he is uncertain in the way his gaze flickers between them, he is not unwavering in his confidence, and opens his mouth to probably voice further concerns— but instead happens to zero in on the lack of anything resembling schoolwork on his side of the table. “Mondo! We’re supposed to be studying right now! Where are your books?”

“I am!” He says, defensive more out of instinct than any real offense; it’s not a technical lie, he is technically ‘studying’. It’s just perhaps not in the manner that Kiyotaka means. Still, he realizes that’s far from a satisfactory answer, scrambling to come up with an excuse before he does chew him out for slacking off ( well meaning, of course, but it’s still a lecture he might try to avoid for now, at least ). “I— I was just thinkin’, uh...thinking ‘bout what we’re supposed to be reading up on fer the literature midterm exam...?”

Well. Alright, that works. Technically, although he has not been particularly bothered by it this evening, it is something that has occupied his mind. And tangentially related to some of the things he was thinking about but he should probably actually get him to help with their studies, given that. It’s not like Mondo has any subject that he’s really good in— gym if only because it doesn’t rely on him being smart— but it probably goes unsaid that anything that was excessive in reading and writing was a weak point for him.

Thankfully, Kiyotaka seems to buy into the excuse. “Literature.” A quiet, murmuring echo of thoughtful consideration as he furrows his brows in concentration; likely trying to figure out what might be of particular use for him to review. “Is there anything in specific that is troubling you, or did you mean more broadly? If you had your notes out, it would probably make this easier, you know? I never mind helping you, but I would at least appreciate it if you gave me something to work with!” Mondo ignores that well-intentioned jab, but reaches to at least put his bag on the table in an attempt to sate the other a little more: now that he’s ( unintentionally ) got his full attention, he knows he won’t get him to drop it that easily. Even if he wishes he’d give up on him sometimes.

( Let’s face it though, they wouldn't be here right now if Kiyotaka gave up that easily. One day— one day, eventually, Mondo thinks this blindly faithful belief borne from his naive stubbornness might hurt him )

“Nah, it ain’t like that—” If only because his idea of what’s troubling him is different from what’s actually on his mind, and not what Kiyotaka means. Well, honestly, even if they were supposed to be studying, really— if Mondo really needed a moment to be vulnerable and unpack every single thing haunting his mind, Kiyotaka would let them have a moment to do that. And okay, also Mondo hadn’t really looked at the assignments for that class in much detail in terms of exam preparation, although the same would apply to most of his classes honestly. It’s fine, he’s not really expecting to pass. In what aspect of life did he not expect to utterly fail at, in the end? He’ll just coast along well enough to not completely disappoint Kiyotaka. And not kicked out of the academy. That too. “— but I was just kinda thinkin’ about those...myths and shit. Are ya familiar with them? It doesn’t really strike me as your kinda material.”

( Well, that’s not quite correct: he expects that of course, with being equally well versed in most if not all his classes, he’d be familiar with it. Especially since he was usually ahead in every subject by at least a little bit for his own sake. This doesn’t strike him as the kind of subject matter that Kiyotaka would find enjoyable; because he is a person who likes to stick to logical, practical things. And stuff like folklore and myths, even if they have their roots in realistic things, are far from being rational tales )

“Well...no, I suppose it is not ‘my thing’, but—!” His voice takes a sudden uptick, and he swears he sees him puff up his chest slightly. Dork. “I did ask Fukawa-kun to lend me her help on brushing up on some of the topics in advance, since such subjects are more of her domain of knowledge— even if her particular skills aren’t quite the same as the subject at hand, she’s still much more qualified than I am, at any rate. And I know she will have her hands full with a writing deadline soon, so I wanted to get it over with before she got too busy. She said her next book is coming along well though! ...Well, those were not quite her words, but that was the impression I got from speaking from her! Anyways, did you also have some problems with understanding them? I took quite detailed notes, so I can help you go over them!”

“No— I mean, yes...? Maybe later, yeah, that’d be nice. But tha’s...uh, that’s not—” Mondo trips over his words because as much as he hates depending on Kiyotaka to help with his studies he does, well, help. It’d probably be more helpful if he made more of an attempt on his own part to not feed into the cycle of failure, but that’s asking for a little more foresight than he possesses. Right now, however, he has something he wants to selfishly indulge in talking about. “Nah, I was thinking, erm...well. Yer familiar with...you, uh, you know ‘bout the red thread myths, right?”

Kiyotaka looks at him a little oddly which is honestly pretty fair, because this probably seems like it came out of nowhere ( because it did ), arms crossed as he huffs. “Erm, well...vaguely. That would definitely be a topic that is Fukawa-kun’s specialty more than mine. But you are speaking of the myths around marriage, right? It is not a topic that generally intrigues me. Furthermore, it does not make sense— if they say that the string is invisible, how can it have a color? I have a hard time understanding why people believe that kind of thing so easily.”

Of course _that’s_ the part that he takes away from it. Not that it’s a bad thing, per se. Maybe not quite the answer he wants to hear, but he wouldn’t want it any other way, thanks. However, now that he’s brought the subject up; Kiyotaka waits, expression expectant, for him to continue with further elaboration as to what this has to do with what they’re learning about. Which it honestly really doesn’t, but he’s made it this far, so he might as well continue before his nerves kicks in. He probably wouldn’t pick up on anything he was trying to imply, anyways. In theory. If Mondo was trying to be subtle. Which he wasn’t, although that may be moreso because he kind of sucks at subtly sometimes and also because he’s trying to not make himself nervous by overthinking shit and end up yelling instead.

Even if it feels like he’s cementing every nail in his personal shitty little coffin the longer he speaks.

“Yeah? Yer not wrong, but...” Mondo shifts the pen in his hand slightly so he can prop up his head, elbow on the table as he considers what’s the best way to summarize his thoughts. He wants to avert his gaze, but it’s hard to feel as if he can do that when Kiyotaka is watching him so intently. “Er, ya ever think— wouldn’t you prefer it if you could take somethin’ more meaningful away from it?”

“More meaningful?” He repeats, still seemingly confused by the point that Mondo is trying to make. Which is to be expected, this does kind of lean heavily into the area of being a touch too unrealistic for Kiyotaka’s liking, along with the general vagueness he’s approaching this with— but he can also tell that he seems to be humorning him, at least in an effort of trying to understand.

“Yeah. I mean, ‘cause...I mean, uh...so like, you know...you know—!” Christ. It would be great if he could say something coherent— Kiyotaka’s expression has crossed into something more concerned than anything else. Still, it’s not looking great in his favor if he’s already getting nervous; and he considers backing out and dropping the subject because Mondo knows he will let him, but that would be cowardly and he might be a coward but he can man up and do this. Probably.

Okay, what’s he supposed to do when he’s worked up like this again...? Uh. Breathe deeply and try not to yell, right? He’s kind of already failed step one— worst case scenario, he can probably count on him getting confused and not lash out and personally upset him because Kiyotaka crying on top of all this is not going to make this any easier for him. Although he’s probably jinxed the chances of something going wrong here. But since he’d really like to avoid the potential of that happening, he’ll take a deep breath and try to calm down before attempting to speak again.

“Right. So...you know how it— er, the strings— they’re supposed ta represent bonds and connections ‘nd all that shit, right? But that feels a little...dunno, cheap? Meaningless?” He pauses for a moment in his own confusion— there’s probably a better word for what he’s trying to get at, but he’s not the smart one, so he’ll just have to hope that he gets the gist of what he means. “So even if it’s traditionally ‘bout romantic shit, who says you gotta interpret it like that all the time? M-Maybe it’s just better to think about it like there’s someone out there bound ta always be close to you. Eventually. So ya won’t be lonely or something shit like that. Isn’t that...uh, c-cool?” Chicken. Coward. How fucking lame could you get? You could be truthful with your feelings for once, but no. You had to backpedal at the first given opportunity, huh? Instead, he flinches at how pathetic he must sound and starts fiddling with the pen in his hand again, anxiously. God he’s really going to snap ( this pen ) and ruin it. This.

( Everything )

Maybe he should just run now, even if this is his own room and Mondo’s own stubbornness is probably only matched by Kiyotaka’s and running might really only get him a lecture...and hurt his feelings in doing so. So that’s out of the question, clearly, and sits in awkward silence as he waits for any kind of response from the other.

Kiyotaka blinks once, brows raised; seemingly gauging if Mondo has anything else to say, before nodding to himself and appears to accept what he says for what it is. And he thinks that’s that, which he supposes isn’t the most disastrous way that conversation could have gone, even if he’s disappointed by his own incompetence, and maybe expects a light scolding for still not using their study time ‘efficiently’. But to his surprise ( and confusion ), he goes from holding his hand in one to holding it between both, like he’s inspecting it with a thoughtful expression. Which isn’t a bad thing, just confusing; and not helped by the fact the only thing he has to say about this is a simple, “Hm. I understand!!” before reaching for one his felt pens.

“Uh.” Is all Mondo has to say at first, very smartly, which causes the other to pause and look at him in query. “Tha’s, uh, good— great? Glad you got something out of that.” Because he sure as hell does not understand what he was trying to say, so more power to him, he supposes, and just watches in bewilderment as he watches him uncap the pen in one hand before bringing it to press against his skin.

It’s not a weird feeling, per se, in comparison to when he’s gotten actual tattoos done and used his hand in place of a paper a number of times because sometimes that’s just how it is, but Mondo’s never had any qualms about tarnishing his skin like that. And yet— the intense amount of focus Kiyotaka has on him makes it feel like...like it should mean something special, in any case. That said, it takes him a bit to figure out what exactly the intention of his actions are, but doesn’t quite understand if follows the logical path he has taken to get to this point; but simply tries not to squirm and hopes his hand isn’t getting noticeably sweaty. But given that he’s holding onto it, he’s probably asking for a little too much.

It’s almost a little torturous, the drag of the tip against his skin; slow, methodical movements and a grip on his hand that is gentle ( yet firm enough to keep him from wriggling out of his grasp ). In reality, he is sure that it does not take as long as it feels, but the kind of care that he puts into this gesture— not unlike the way he dedicates himself to his studies— is perhaps what makes him feel like they are sitting there for hours and not minutes.

Honestly, he doesn’t quite think this is something that deserves as much effort and concentration as he is currently giving it, the focused look back on his face: like the thin line he is drawing around his pinky is a masterpiece. Maybe it is just the canvas he is using.

Or maybe it’s because this is the kind of thing that he’d usually be staunchly against, and he’s trying to reason with himself that bending his personal rules was okay from time to time. Shit; he really hopes that’s _**not**_ what it is because it makes him feel more guilty at the thought that might possibly be bothering him. Again, this isn’t something— he doesn’t deserve this kind of...dedication? Determination? Whatever you wanted to call it still wouldn’t change the fact he was undeserving of this kind of attention. But Kiyotaka doesn’t ever put anything less than his whole into everything, and he would be lying if he said anything other than that he has always admired that about him. Even if Mondo isn’t something that needs to be perfect ( even if he wishes he could be for him— wishes Kiyotaka didn’t feel like he had to do things perfect for him ).

He is so intently focused on his hand that he thinks he could lean in and kiss him and he wouldn’t even notice— and wouldn’t that be something? He’d probably hate him for doing something like that ( but what if he doesn’t? He means this in the best way possible, but Kiyotaka has always surprised him, and it is the unknown potential that is an alluring temptation. And okay, maybe it also has something to do with the fact he has never been good at ignoring his impulses ). But he doesn’t really realize this has become less of a thought and something of an actual action until he has leaned so far forward that his forehead bumps into his and nearly jerks out of his grip with a start.

“Stay still.” Kiyotaka rebukes him with a huff; either not noticing, or not finding anything about his behavior unusual enough to comment upon. Mondo complies with his request regardless, though given that he’d almost finished before, it’s more like he’s observing his handiwork before making the finishing touch.

( It is here he should probably elaborate on what has actually happened, because otherwise it might seem like he is making a ruckus out of nothing. Which, don’t get him wrong, he probably is— but what is of particular note is the fact that it’s not just anything that he had drawn on his hand, but a thin line around his pinky. In red ink. Like a string, carefully drawn knot and all. It’s a lot to unpack, but reasons that there’s probably nothing deeper to it. Probably )

He has barely managed to process the fact that Kiyotaka has, for some reason he can hardly grasp, probably gone and twisted one of his rules by ‘sullying his skin’, as he’d say; when Mondo realizes that he has gone ahead and raised the pen to his own hand. The red tip of the pen bleeds against his paper pale skin: akin to marking up a clean canvas, he feels bad that the prefect is marring his skin in this manner. A gesture that makes him feel something indescribable, asides from a feeling of nagging guilt that makes him open his mouth to say something. Even if it hadn't exactly been his idea, he had unintentionally put the idea in his head by bringing up the topic.

“Ya don’t gotta—” He starts, but cuts himself short when Kiyotaka gives him an irritated look. Of course this is what he’s deciding to be stubborn on.

“I admit under most circumstances, I would not encourage this kind of vandalism! But these will not leave a permanent mark. Furthermore, since these are non-toxic pens, it is safe for use on our skin— if it were unsafe, then I would take issue with it!” Satisfied with his reasoning, he returns to his task.

( That checks out. It’s only because it won’t be a permanent thing that he even allows himself to bend his own values to do it in the first place, and not because Mondo is a bad influence on him. Right. Please, who do you think you are, to think you could influence him like _that_?

Even if he was an influence, let’s be realistic here: Kiyotaka is too good to follow him down his path; not even in a million years would he ever end up anywhere even close to as awful as himself— )

Mondo’s internal self loathing is interrupted by Kiyotaka clasping their hands together with a wide grin, pinkies twined together as he eagerly inspects their hands. He’s already done? That seemed rather quick, but he doesn’t really get to think about it because he starts talking. “We’re matching now! It turned out looking nicer than I expected, actually. I was worried that even with how simple it is, I’d mess it up.” Christ, his enthusiasm is almost contagious; but has to wonder if he realizes the full implications that this would probably have if it were anyone else— the way an outsider would take this exchange. That’s not something he should think about, because he either doesn’t realize the implications or doesn’t care ( either is fine, really, he swears ).

More importantly, he realizes that perhaps Kiyotaka has managed to see through all his talk and managed to understand the underlying insecurity better than he himself had, perhaps. Like he chose to do this to try to validate Mondo’s feelings on the matter.

Also he has once again been struck with the desire of wanting to kiss him because _he's so cute when he looks this pleased with himself and so earnest, he swears he would only like to kiss the top of his head in a **super** platonic manner, obviously, except that would probably be pushing the line even for their friendship but—_

Yeah, he should probably say something before he thinks he’s ignoring him. He nervously almost blurts out the fact that actually, technically speaking he probably should have been drawing on the opposite hand: and even if that’s the kind of small detail Kiyotaka would probably really care to know about, he’s pretty sure it’d be an asshole move to point that out. As it is, Mondo tries to come up with something tough to respond to that with, and stutters his way through a soft, “Y-Yeah? It’s, er, nice...?” Nailed it. Good job, dumbass, could you not sound so uncertain of yourself next time?

That also obviously doesn’t quite come out the way he meant it to, because Kiyotaka releases his hands, voice raised slightly with panic, and looking rather...crestfallen, honestly. “...Do you not like it? I— I’m sorry, I misunderstood you! I just thought it might help.”

He doesn’t see the telltale glaze of teary eyes ( thank goodness ) because he can only imagine how much his anxiety would spiral but also the knowledge that there’s still a pretty high possibility that he might cry doesn’t help his nerves in any case. At any rate, he should attempt to not make things worse; he can have a mental breakdown over this later. “No— I mean, yeah. I, ugh, ya didn’t...! Yer fine! I love it! Calm down!” He's not sure which one of them that last part is really directed towards. And also falls on deaf ears since he’s still a little frantic looking, and Mondo’s not feeling any less anxious after yelling. Wonderful.

“Well, regardless, I should still apologize for my actions! I shouldn't have assumed— I should have asked for your permission instead of just going ahead and presuming you would be okay with me doing that! I was under the impression you were bringing it up because you were trying to convey that you believe something alike that would apply to our bond as kyodai!” Kiyotaka rambles in explaining his reasoning, accommodated by the flapping of his hands in gesture. Of course, he’s not wrong...even if he’s sort of missing parts of the implications he more or less had been going for, but like hell if he’s going to admit that. He’d definitely sound like a hopelessly romantic chick if he said that, and like, yeah okay maybe that’s not really far off the mark but again. Like hell if he’s going to admit that to Kiyotaka, let alone himself. Absolutely not. He’s trying to not fucking things up, after all.

Speaking of things he’s fucked up: since Kiyotaka seems to think he’s in the wrong, he at least needs to correct him on that. This time, Mondo takes it upon himself to take his hands in his, a reassuring squeeze, though his gaze is admittedly anywhere but looking straight at the man in front of him. “Nah, you were pretty spot on. Shouldn’t have expected any less from ya. Should’ve figured you’d see right through me.” He peers at the thin line drawn around his finger— on the topic of seeing through him, now that he thinks about it, he wonders if Kiyotaka had picked up on more than he was acknowledging? Then again, indirect rejection doesn’t quite seem like something he would do ( for better or worse, he is straightforwardly confrontational on these kinds of things ), so maybe it's just something else. “Like I said, yer fine. You always jus’ manage to catch me off guard, kyodai. It looks nice.” It is less a question, more of an affirmative statement this time; hopefully more sincere sounding, at least...not that he hadn’t been sincere before, but— whatever, you get the point. His words serve their purpose, at least; even if he still looks vaguely uncertain, he has at least perked back up.

“I suppose so, but I am not without fault for not having asked first! I...I am pleased that you are not upset with it— it is a little sloppy, but I tried to fix it.” Mondo opens his mouth to staunchly disagree that _no, it’s not sloppy, it looks great and he loves it and he wants to show it off fuck you_ — but his breath catches in throat with that soft sentiment, and perhaps that’s for the best. Kiyotaka looks thoughtful, a soft hum falls from his lips as he...manages to turn his hands to twine their fingers together again, a look of deep concentration on his face. Christ. This is it, huh? This is how he dies? Well, it could be worse.

( He could be bleeding out on the pavement instead )

“I did want to ask, though...do you believe we had been bound by some kind of brotherhood before, perhaps? I mean, is that what you were trying to bring up?” Though phrased as a question, Kiyotaka barrels on as if it had been a rhetorical one; and maybe it had been, because Mondo’s a little too speechless right now to answer in any meaningful way. “I will readily admit that I have not put too much thought into these kinds of things before, but...! There are times...I had always wondered if there was something special about our bond. Compared to how I feel about our peers, for lack of a better word, it feels very different? I do not mean that in a bad way, of course! Regardless of it being real or not, it’s a nice thought. A-And…” He trails off for a moment, squeezing his hands before confidently powering through the last of his thoughts. “Well, it might be a bit presumptuous to say this, but I feel very lucky that we have each other to support, and I hope it remains that way for the rest of our life...and, uhm, as well as the next ones!”

( _What the fuck? What the fuck what the—_ )

Mondo takes a moment to process the fact that: one, for whatever goddamn reason Kiyotaka genuinely enjoys the fact they are close as close can be ( platonically, at least ); and two, seems to want it to stay that way for the foreseeable, even when he is successfully Prime Minister way later down the line because you know he’s going to get there, like there’s no way that’s **not** happening. And yeah heavy emphasis on platonic, because hahaha there’s no way that’s ever happening, which is fine, he doesn’t mind because it’s better than the alternative ( not having him at all ). Besides, Mondo knows he wouldn't mean that if he knew the truths he was hiding, and for a hot second he wants to confess to all of it, but in the end he is weak and a coward and stays silent.

If it were anyone else, he’d probably find it more jarring to have the casual mention of death in an otherwise seemingly heartwarming moment, but it’s _**Kiyotaka**_ so he knows he doesn’t mean to bring the conversation to a bad place ( it’s not his fault you’re a coward and you can’t face the skeletons in the closet quite yet even if you’re so far in you might as well be one at this point, dead ~~girl~~ boy walking ). Mondo breathes out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding; and if his hands weren’t occupied, he’d probably have given him a light whack, so really he should consider himself lucky he is so cute and endearing that he holds back on the urge of meeting halfway and giving him a noogie. “Listen, man, I know ya like planning for the future ‘nd all that shit, but like, can you—” He pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how he’s supposed to put this. “— Could you not think ‘bout the inevitable future of us dyin’ and just live in the present for a moment?” There’s a bit of a scrunch of his face, something distressed, and so Mondo speaks to prevent a preemptive apology. “’m not actually upset by it. But you gotta make it to the Diet and do some good before yer allowed to think about yer death, Mister Prime Minister. No scandalous assassination before then.” He teases.

“It _is_ an inevitable part of life.” He starts, looking off to the side after a moment. “I— hmph...I knew that. It is usually apparent when people are genuinely angry.” He considers calling bullshit on that, given he’d predicted an apology before it could actually be voiced, but that probably wouldn’t get them anywhere good. He opts for an alternative interpretation here: even if it might as well be hardwired into Kiyotaka, some instinct to apologize for things he’s never meant to bear the burden for, Mondo does get the feeling that at this point in their friendship, he probably has a better sense for when he is actually upset. But there’s a bit of a distant look on his face that makes him wonder if there’s something else he’s not saying— it’s not an exaggeration when he says he’s willing to sit here all night if it means he gets to hear what he’s thinking about. Thankfully for him, he doesn’t need to do so, inquiry answered for him in the only way Kiyotaka seems to know how to handle most things: directly, and perhaps far too bluntly. “Sorry, this...exercise of ours reminded me of the way the older kids would sometimes write things on me in marker when we were younger.”

Yeah, no amount of readiness will ever really prepare for the seemingly endless amounts of shitty childhood stories that Kiyotaka has to share— and it’s not like his own life was a walk in the park, but at least he had Daiya, and his brother had taught him how to fight back ~~even if girls shouldn’t be fighting~~ , until he didn’t have Daiya and then Mondo swears most of his fighting spirit had died along with him. He chokes on a surprised shout, or maybe that’s just the rage that he’s trying to stifle because he knows Kiyotaka has never been particularly fond about him turning to violence and anger as a first response ( which, in hindsight makes sense as to why a guy who has spent his life faced with such terrible harassment would prefer not facing more violence, even on his behalf ).

Not that he’s exactly successful in that regard; it’s only when he tugs on his hands that he realizes that his hold has gotten painfully tight and lets go with an apology. It’s a rather far cry from the soft mood from moments prior, but Kiyotaka trusts him with talking about these kinds of things so the least he can do is listen and not think about how he’s strong and not a weak coward like Mondo. “Ya said it happened when you were younger— so no one’s tried ta pull that shit with you in a while then, right?” Clenched jaw, teeth grind for a moment; and then realizes he must be making an unpleasant facial expression and loosens his jaw up at least. Not that any of that really makes the situation better, just more of a, too late to do anything about it.

“Yes, because...they would write things I could not read. Or, ah, things they thought I would not be able to read, sometimes. Not that any parent wants to have to explain the meaning of...those kinds of words. But permanent marker does not come off so easily, so it was hard to hide even if everyone else would turn a blind eye to it. It...it wasn’t so bad, I suppose? Looking back on it now, I mean.” He sounds sheepish, as if there’s something he should be ashamed of in admitting it ( like it’s his fault people decide to be assholes towards him, but that might be a little hypocritical coming from him, so he stays silent ). “It’s a pretty childish thing, so I think that mostly stayed behind in elementary school. I— sorry, I did not mean to bring it up...I was just reminded of it. This is obviously nicer than that!” He looks down at his hands with a soft smile that leaves Mondo flustered. However, he can read behind the lines and takes a guess what goes unsaid, because he was also that kind of kid, you know; not on the receiving end of things, but giving. Growing up just meant the kids switched to other tactics to harass him. Disgusting.

( Not that he exactly has the most solid moral high ground to be speaking from, but bullying crossed the line. Daiya had drilled it into his head at a pretty young age that picking on the weak didn’t make them any stronger and pointed to their dad as an example of what not to do. He must’ve forgotten that at some point, when he wanted to be strong strong strong because he felt _so_ weak weak weak. Mondo never really picked a fight with a kid that couldn't fight back, but this is a dog eat dog kind of world that gangs operate on; stray kids like you that have never been taught any obedience keep on biting, and to act like you haven’t stooped that low would be false. Daiya probably would have been disgusted to know this, but it’d be dishonest to act like Mondo has stuck to the most static code of honor since taking up his position )

Moving on. Since this is a past issue, there’s no point in him getting angry— well, it doesn’t stop him from getting upset, but there’s not much he can really do about that, especially since Kiyotaka wouldn’t want him doing anything about it. Instead he thinks it’s a blessing that he’s turned out as kind as he is, all things considered. Another way that he’s stronger than him.

Anyways, he decides that he wants to do something for him in return. Not that Mondo feels obligated to do something in return for something he didn’t even ask him to do, but he does want to express something like gratitude, just preferribly not in words because he always manages to fuck that up. Kiyotaka might not have meant to bring it up, but to put aside whatever personal discomfort and rough memories that it drug up ( and arguably, still affected him ) for something as trivial as this— for his sake, he feels that at the very least he has to do something to express his appreciation.

It takes him more than a few minutes to figure out what he wants to do, but that apparently works out just fine because Kiyotaka is content to hold his hands in his, lost in thought. Which— when did he take them back again? Truthfully, he’d expected that in the midst of his internal angsting, he would’ve gone back to his schoolwork, but at least this means he doesn’t need to interrupt him again?

He hesitates for a moment, even if he figures at this point what difference would one more mark on his skin make, but he has always been a person who acts on his impulses: not that that exactly ends well for him, but he apparently hasn't learned his lesson the first hundred times. Besides he’s just returning the favor, he could say; attempting to do something vaguely comforting. It’s more of a matter of trying to decide what to imprint upon his skin that really trips him up— and okay he’s also fighting his own ego on this because it feels like girly shit to do, but Kiyotaka did it first and Mondo is as sure as hell that he isn’t any less of a man for doing so; so if that shitty part of his brain could shut up for all of two minutes and let him do this, that would be great.

He uses his exactly negative two art skills to draw a tiny ( shitty ) heart on his wrist ( sleeve ) because he can’t think of anything more fitting, but it’s fine. It’s not as if anyone expects perfection from him, or anything good from him in general. He hopes so, anyways, but braces himself for the worst regardless. It’s probably not a good sign for his future in carpentry, though.

If it were anyone else, he’d probably expect them to laugh regardless of it— _**hell**_ , he half expects Kiyotaka to laugh even knowing better— to distract him from thinking about it, or rather, as a bit of an afterthought, he considers adding a line of characters to the inside of his wrist. A message of sorts, but Mondo figures he would somehow figure out what he means to say, even in ateji and in his god awful shitty handwriting. Alternatively, he’s too stupid for that shit; he might know a bunch of these letters and shit from paying attention and general usage, but he doesn’t trust himself to fuck it up somehow. And yeah, maybe he is a coward backing out before he puts out more than he means to; fuck you too, he’ll try again next time, maybe. So yeah, that’s not going to fly, thank you very much. Instead, he opts to add an equally shitty star to accompany that heart so it feels a little less girly and then chucks the pen far out of his reach before he can second guess himself. Not that anyone would be able to tell that based on Kiyotaka’s reaction, he’d think he drew something on the scale of like...a Utamaro work. Maybe. Is it obvious that he’s also never paid attention to an art class?

“Mondo!” Although on the more hushed side of his vocal range— which, when he thinks about it, is amusing because it’s not like anyone else could hear them anyways— his pleased trill is easily heard and understood as he admires the marks on his arm. Mondo can tell that he has something to say ( likely flattery ), so he intervenes before he can speak. Not because like, his compliments are insincere or anything, but because he doesn’t feel like he ever really deserves it. Especially when he’s just fixing his fuckups and making it up to him anyways.

“Also, I know ya don’t know any better, but traditionally, ‘ts supposed ta be around the thumb for men, and ‘round the pinky for women.” His brain blurts out before Mondo can process the thought, and has to rush to amend that with, “But I don’ really think anyone cares about that kinda shit these days.” Even if for half a moment his brain had felt offended, before shutting down his own shitty toxic self hating complex for a solid half minute, because even if Kiyotaka had known better he wouldn’t have meant it in any upsetting way.

“I see! My apologies, I was not aware of that!” Mondo grumbles because he knows that, he even said so already; but can’t actually get a word in elsewise, because he lifts their hands up before looking up at him. “I am glad you told me! I’ve been learning a lot from you tonight. Shall I fix it, then?” He’s going to lose his mind if Kiyotaka keeps looking at him like this...in retrospect, he should have expected this.

But instead of being weak and vulnerable for a whole half second like his gut wants him to ( or kissing him senseless like the irrational part of his brain wants him to ), the loud voice in his head that hasn’t quite undone all the toxic masculinity ingrained into him instead forces him to pull one hand away to flick his forehead. Gently, mind you: even if Kiyotaka isn’t even remotely fragile, and could retaliate just as hard if not **harder** ; he’s got no reason to try and hurt him either when his gesture is meant more as a soft reprimandation. “Said I knew ya didn’t know— wha’s there to fix? Doesn’t gotta be perfect.” He could stand to be less of a hypocrite, but, y’know, what else is new? It’s not like Kiyotaka doesn’t spend ninety-five percent of his day trying to be as flawless as possible anyways, Mondo thinks he can afford to let him off for once.

“Are you sure?” He asks him anyways, but moves on when it becomes apparent that he’s not going to budge on the matter, beaming up at him. “Very well then! Well, thank you again for teaching me on the subject! I am glad to have learned something new today, however— that does not excuse you from doing your homework, Mondo!” With renewed effort, much to Mondo’s own exasperation, snatches his bag before he can say anything, and starts placing out his homework and notes ( if his half scribbled attempts could be called notes, even if his studying habits had improved significantly because of Kiyotaka ) and helps him actually get something accomplished during their study time. Really, it’s a little more like a mini lecture, but only because Mondo thinks he doesn’t know how else to get his point across sometimes.

And as he sits next to him to have an easier time pointing out specific passages on the papers in front of him, Kiyotaka’s hand doesn’t let go of his own, two red marked fingers intertwined with each other. He does his best to actually focus on what’s being said, even if all of his best efforts are probably being wasted on him; he can’t help but think that even if he doesn’t believe in soulmates: Mondo does believe in the person next to him and hangs onto every last word Kiyotaka says.

( Red— it would be nice to think they are bound by red too )

* * *

Red is the color of his hands most days, as far as he is concerned— but this particularly applies the following day, after he nearly knocks Leon Kuwata’s lights out for being an annoying prick and not recognizing when he’s pushed his buttons too far. He might have not been far off the mark, but Mondo is not going to give him the satisfaction of that, and it is still far more instinctual to deal with his problems with his bare hands than to use his mind.

Well, at least Fujisaki got to prove her strength training was working in her favor in trying to de-escalate the situation before any teachers found out. Even if, you know, they’d probably _**reward**_ the Super High School Level Biker Gang Leader for ultimately being violent, ironically. Which is probably why he only ends up with being lectured by Kiyotaka, because that’s technically the most punishment that he can give him; save for cutting off all ties with him, but that’s not exactly the kind of discipline he’s trying to implement.

 _Weak_.

His disappointment is evident in the way he stares down at him and Mondo wonders if he can get a raincheck on this lecture, so he can run away from the consequences of his actions as per usual. But seeing as Kiyotaka has seen it necessary to bandage up his hand while he scolds him, he figures he’s not going to get out of it that easily. As if he hasn’t been more beat up than this before, and Kuwata’s not the one with a black eye because Mondo couldn’t keep a handle on his temper. He had it coming, and now they’re even. So okay, maybe Kiyotaka’s right when he says they should work on his...tendencies. _But_ , the only reason he ends up with bruised fists and Leon doesn’t actually end up knocked out is because he had rightfully vented out his ( misplaced ) frustration on the wall next to them. And also because Chihiro had managed to get in between them at that point and like _hell_ he was going to risk hitting her. Because she wasn’t the one that had pissed him off. Not because she’s a girl and he shouldn’t hit a girl. She’d gotten one of his ribs pretty good and he’d congratulate her on being stronger than he was later, but he doesn’t need Kiyotaka worrying about that as well.

Besides, it's not like that additional information would stop him from wrapping up his hands— it might get him a slightly less harsh reprimandation, but being chewed out like this is probably the bare minimum of what he deserves. Like the previous night, he is careful when handling his hand, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when his fingers gently press against bruises; he’s gotten worse than this, Kiyotaka has seen him at his worst and this is not his worst and acting like this hurts in comparison to that would be **weak**. It's also extremely unnecessary to go to these lengths when he’s been worse off, but this is what he does best. Worries about people, cares about them: more than he deserves, but trying to deter him is a pointless endeavor, he’ll just take them off later. But like, way later so he can say he took them off to shower and not feel guilty for undoing a well-intentioned gesture ( except he will feel guilty anyways and get swallowed whole by that feeling ).

“Kyodai?” Kiyotaka’s voice cuts in— fuck, has he been trying to get his attention this entire time? Yeah, it’s not the first time that he’s zoned out while he was lecturing, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel bad about it. “Mondo!” He repeats, somewhat louder, when he makes no indication of having heard him; not quite irritated, just a little impatient, he has always been a person of efficiency. Raising the hand he’d been bandaging up between their faces, expression serious: rather contradictory to the way he was gently tracing unblemished parts of his hand. “This—” he taps one finger against one of his own, marker remaining as evidence from the prior night, “—would not have anything to do with why you saw fit to pick a fight with Kuwata-kun, would it?” He sounds mixed between exasperated and admonishing, but his gaze seems closer to disappointed. Probably? He thinks so, so Mondo makes it a point to not have to look at him by observing the ceiling tiles instead as he considers if he should respond.

“Well...” He probably doesn’t have to say much else to implicate himself, that might as well be an admission of guilt, but that would imply he feels bad. Which he does not. Mostly. “Sorta, yeah.” He’d rather not have to detail every little reason as to why exactly he’d fought in the first place; he’s pretty sure he’d only further disappoint, if he were truthful. Anyways, he’s pretty sure he will hear about it from someone else, so he might as well admit as much. He’s sure he’d prefer to hear the whole of it from him, and he really hates lying to him more than he already does, but admitting the truth feels equally embarrassing in this situation.

( He would be disappointed in him to know the whole truth, how fragile his ego must be to snap over such a small detail and how weak he is to not be able to hold himself back entirely. Mondo wants to snap at him that it’s his own fault if he’s disappointed in him because he shouldn’t have expected for him to not fuck up at some point and serve to only disappoint him. But Kiyotaka doesn’t know about the fucked up things you’ve done and the mistakes that you made and keep making and it’s not his fault it’s not his fault it’s not _your_ fault— so it’s not Kiyotaka’s fault because it’s never been anyone’s fault but your own, that you’re a living disappointment. Weak )

It doesn’t change much of anything in the end, since he ends up disappointed with what he hears, lips set in a stern frown. “Mondo Oowada, this had better not be a roundabout way of admitting you haven’t been keeping up on your personal hygiene.” It’s hard to tell, given how serious he seems, but Mondo realizes that he’s half-joking in an attempt to try and lighten the mood: it’s only half a joke because good hygiene is far from a joke for Kiyotaka, he can practically sense the disgusted cringe that he’s internalizing at the mere thought.

“I’m washing jus’ fine.” Mondo glowers before he can be lectured on his habits— _sorry, he doesn’t want to smell all fruity like a proper girl, ma, fucking deal with it—_ “Didn’t realize it was so noticeable ‘til Kuwata pointed it out. Just didn’ come off so easily when I was washing up, so I let it be. Figured it’ll come off eventually.” This is mostly true. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide it, and it wasn’t worth the hassle of trying to scrub it off. Given that his skin is not light, it really isn’t noticeable; unless you were looking at it closely. Or if he hadn’t unintentionally brought attention to it by rubbing at the spot all day. And maybe he hadn’t put the most effort in trying to scrub it off in the first place. Even if that means now he has attention from everyone just because of one small line on his hand that wasn’t even permanent.

( And the...less manly part of him liked that. Because no one else knew the meaning behind that gesture except for them. In his head, it feels like something special. Like a secret, except one that doesn’t bring him any guilt. Almost like a claiming mark, but he definitely doesn’t mean it like that. Not that it stops him from thinking of it in that way )

As if he can tell he’s withholding part of the truth— who is he kidding, there’s no if about it— Kiyotaka huffs at him as he stands and forcibly pulls Mondo along with him. “That is no excuse for starting a fight over it! To prevent any further incidents, we should wash it off now— I know some tricks that should help get it off!”

Some part of him wonders if he ever gets sick and tired of feeling like he has to look after him like this, hands pressed against the small of his back as he leads him back in the direction of their dorms. He disappears for a moment, though Mondo hardly notices as it is, too lost in thought: only noticing his return with a hearty thump against his shoulder blade. And a bottle of milk? Oh. He was serious about knowing tricks to remove it. Probably from personal experience, if their previous conversations are to be any indication. Hm. Mondo wonders if he can argue about it being a waste of food to use on him...does milk count as a food, now that he thinks about it?

He must spend too much time contemplating this, because the next thing he knows, he has been coaxed into his dorm bathroom. Because this might be a little messy and his thing is all about cleanliness. Right. Cool. That does not explain why he is sitting and watching as Kiyotaka chews on his lip, thumb rubbing against the back of his hand in what is probably supposed to be reassuring. Or just an anxious habit. Not that he’s complaining either way, but he doesn’t get further than that thought when he starts speaking.

“You know, I...ah, I asked Fukawa-kun about _it_ , earlier.” He doesn't even need him to elaborate to understand what he means by that; jolting upright as he considers bolting away from the room ( and this conversation ). Yeah okay, he’s a little jealous about their weird little friendship and the fact he can comfortably just bring up that kind of shit, apparently. Okay, thought acknowledged, moving on— apparently, his jerky movement expresses some kind of distress, since he squeezes his hands. "I didn't mention you at all...though I think she was suspicious that you had something to do with it, so that’s my fault. Or, uhm, I think that is the only reason she did not claim to be too busy when I went to ask. Anyways, I just wanted a second opinion on the subject we were discussing last night. I figured she might know more on the topic since...she **is** a romance author.”

It's this specifically that causes Kiyotaka's cheeks to flush lightly, and in turn Mondo feels his own face warm, but he doesn't really get the chance to mull over _why_ exactly. Or what relevance Fukawa’s ‘expertise’ in romance has to do with them. Because they are friends and only that, clearly. How else is he supposed to take being told this besides the obvious? It’s a damn shame he can’t figure it out when the other drops his hand suddenly, turning to plug up the sink and pour out the milk as a distraction. His body has turned away from him mostly, but in the mirror he can see that his face has turned a few shades darker. Weird. “Anyways, the specifics of what we discussed is irrelevant! It has only reaffirmed my beliefs. And that is the inconsistency in what color it is when it can't be seen! Because it is only a story!”

Bottle now empty, he places it aside, hands on his hips as he turns back towards him. Disappointingly— maybe? He can’t quite place the feeling in his chest— the flustered blush is gone from his face, but the beaming smile on his face makes up for it. “And furthermore, disregarding all of that— as long as you believe in it, then we are bound to each other, right? So you shouldn’t feel bad about washing it off! If it is reassuring for you to know, I will be putting forth more effort into strengthening our bond. So please don’t worry about it!” Shit, is he really that easy to read, or is he just more open around him? Fuck. But he really only processes that for all of five seconds before Mondo finds his face cupped in his hands and forced to stare up at him and his mind kind of short-circuits on the train of thought on how nice his hands feel. And definitely not about the kind of mixed message this is sending.

You know, he’d say maybe he should walk back that statement about them clearly being just friends and yeah maybe he understands why some of their peers seem to think otherwise even though it’s entirely normal for people as close as they are to be at least somewhat affectionate there’s nothing weird or not manly about it _shut up shut up shut up_ —

( Also hello? Kiyotaka? What the fuck does ‘putting forth more effort into strengthening their bond’ mean??? He knows this has to do with his obsessive need to put an effort into like, everything, but he swore they’d started making progress into conveying the fact that while casual relationships do require effort, he could probably serve to relax and put **less** effort into it if anything… )

Anyways, thankfully Kiyotaka seems oblivious to his internal crisis that is bound to become an external crisis if he is left with his thoughts too long, and goes on. “And if it would make you happy, I would be happy to just redraw it in the future! Just do not start fights over it again...it worries me. And I do not feel good knowing you are picking fights with our peers because of me.”

“Kuwata started it.” He mutters, petulant as he dunks his hand in the sink and attempts to avert his gaze. Fuck. How does he always manage to make him feel like— like a goddamn lovestruck schoolgirl. Sometimes, it makes him think he can be okay with being vulnerable like that. Really, this all has left him feeling winded; complete with a wheezing exhale when he speaks. “Yeah, okay…I gotcha. It’s a promise, aight? So stop worrying so much, Kiyotaka.”

“No!” Kiyotaka flinches at the sound of his own voice, apparently both of them are startled by how loud he is ( despite the fact that the volume of his voice is perhaps one of his most defining features ). “Sorry. No, I cannot— you know that it is not that simple. I worry about everyone, of course, you know that much. Of course, I am inclined to worry about you more because you are so reckless like this! And naturally, I would not like anything bad to happen to you, so...”

His expression looks sullen, and Mondo feels bad because— yeah, he knows all that, he just doesn’t ever really believe he’s deserving of his concern ( let alone his friendship ). But just because he thinks that doesn’t mean Kiyotaka deserves to feel bad about being able to show some emotion, you know, that thing Mondo should be able to do without feeling weak about it; so he throws his free arm around his shoulders and pulls him in closer. The hands that had been holding onto his face drop only to grip the back of his coat, and there’s a hot exhale against his neck as his face settles against his shoulder. Cool, he’s going to try not to think about that one too much. The sudden burst of pain from his bruised side serves as a great distraction as he tries to not wince too noticeably; presumably, he does a good enough job at stifling himself because Kiyotaka gives no indication that he’s noticed.

( Unsurprising, given the fact you’re always smothering who you really are. It might as well be second nature at this point, huh )

...Shit, he’s not crying, right? He doesn’t feel any kind of wetness that would indicate that he is, but figures he should probably try and dodge that bullet by at least being slightly reassuring, hand rubbing comfortingly against his neck. “Well, you don't gotta worry about me! ‘Cause I promised ya and men don’t go back on their promises, aight?”

“I suppose it is acceptable, in theory.” He relents, sounding disgruntled despite his apparent agreement. “But even if you promise, I am still going to worry about you, naturally! But I trust you, so I will try to restrain myself to a reasonable amount.”

“...Huh? Someone say shit about ya being unreasonable?” He says, as if he didn’t just ( unintentionally ) allude to exactly that. It’s also around this point Mondo forgets about the fact that he has one hand soaking in the sink. Or runs out of patience to keep letting it sit. “Ya ain’t. Maybe a lil’ overbearing sometimes, sure, but hell if you aren’t being realistic and not in a super condescendin’ way like Togami.” He emphasizes this with a few jabs to his chest with his pointer finger while he speaks, and only is interrupted by Kiyotaka pulling back enough to force him into keeping still.

“Ugh, Mondo— you’re making a mess! Put your hand back, I’ll grab a towel.” The biker grumbles because _this is the bathroom and it’s just milk?_ But figures part of the complaint is probably getting it on his shirt, even if milk wouldn’t show against his **white** uniform, and does as is asked of him and puts his hand back in. He figures it’s probably best to just let him do as he pleases when he comes back.

He zones out at some point after he fishes his hand out of the sink, numb to the gentle rubbing of the towel against his skin; when he really regains awareness of himself, he notices Kiyotaka staring at his hands again. He’s been doing that a lot lately, now that he thinks about it. It’s not really a bad thing, per se; he wriggles his hands so he can tap his fingers against the insides of his wrists, earning him a quiet puff of laughter. “Somethin’ about my hands got yer attention?” He considers further teasing him about it, but it’s bold to assume that he wouldn’t manage to just embarrass himself instead.

“No, I just am surprised at how pretty your hands are!” Huh. His expression must be befuddled, because he elaborates. “You have very slender fingers, and for a gang leader, they’re pretty neatly kept.”

He snorts. “Sure, but it ain’t like they’re super soft or shit like that. Ya make it sound like I don’t keep up on hygiene at all. Most chicks ain’t gonna want a guy who can’t take care of themselves at all.” Not that the guy in front of him has apparently noticed his efforts either, so maybe that’s pointless. Whatever, nothing not manly about keeping up some semblance of cleanliness. Self care. Like, have you seen his hair? Anyways, he takes this moment to inspect his hands: completely clean, not that he had doubted that Kiyotaka wouldn’t be successful. “Ah, thanks. Yer so smart ‘bout this kinda shit.”

Kiyotaka stares at him owlishly, not even blinking before he speaks. “I think that both the rough and soft parts of you are very pretty, kyodai.”

Who the fuck gave him the right to be that sweetly sincere: this is not news to Mondo, but it doesn’t make it feel any less like he’s been hit by an ~~oncoming truck~~ freight train with those words. He’d argue that there’s nothing manly about that sentiment, men are not pretty things like girls— but he knows that if he says that. Well, one, Kiyotaka will disagree; moreover, he will presume that he’s upset if he argues against him. Instead, he tries to fight the flush that threatens to creep back onto his face ( he can feel his ears burning, as if that's not enough ) as he mutters a thanks.

( In hindsight, this is perhaps the moment that solidifies exactly how much he **loves** Kiyotaka. Plants the tiny seed of hope that maybe, _maybe_ he can come clean about everything that he isn’t telling him. The moment that signals the beginning of the end )

* * *

“I can’t believe you.” His boyfriend— _His boyfriend!_ Imagine that— sounds like he is in disbelief about what he is seeing.

Specifically, the brand new tattoo that adorns his hand, courtesy of one gang hangout that had taken place over the weekend. It wasn’t like there wasn’t some kind of prelude to this. And not like he hadn’t technically gotten explicit permission from him to do so: even if Kiyotaka had thought it was under the pretense of it being a joke at the time, and Mondo doesn’t correct him because he has technically gotten permission to get a tattoo related to him _fuck yeah!_ Because like, if it was just any ordinary tattoo, he would have gone ahead and done it anyways, _‘cause it’s his body, his choices fuck you_ and he knows that as much as Kiyotaka would probably hate it, he’d respect his decision, at the very least. But if he was going to get something on his body that he specifically was getting with him in mind, at the very least he should at least get his okay. Or make sure he wouldn’t be creeped out by it.

Not that basically tricking him into agreeing is really any better.

( On the other hand, that also means he’s technically sworn that he won’t start a fight over it, but he is leaps and bounds better with this temper these days. Well, okay, he’s been making pretty good progress for a gang leader. Still, he should probably be able to keep his end of the deal. What kind of man would he be? Not a very good one, he supposes, but that’s nothing really new )

“I thought you’d like to not waste yer pens on my hand.” He offers as a means of explanation.

“It is not wasted on you.” Actually, for all his worries, he’s taking this relatively well. Was he just overthinking shit again? Yeah, probably. Well. _**Fuck**_. Now he just feels like an asshole for having the most overly supportive boyfriend in the world. That’s nothing new, when he really thinks about it. He still expects to get a lecture on how bad it is for his skin ( it isn’t ), or how dangerous it could be ( which is why he trusted the job to someone he knew well ). Instead, he just prods at the blotchy patch of skin and asks, “Does it hurt?”

Mondo has to bite back a quiet hiss because even if it doesn’t really hurt, the skin is still kinda sensitive; even if Kiyotaka wouldn’t think any less of him for admitting that maybe it hurts a little ( _weak_ ), but that’s what he’s got cream and painkillers to help with. He shrugs it off, managing to keep a stutter out of his voice. “I mean, relatively speakin’? Nah. I’ve gotten beat up worse than this. Have ya had bad cramps before? Now those are real painful bitches.”

“I have not, sorry...?” He takes his question in the most straightforward way, which while not quite what Mondo meant, is endearing and gets a snort out of him. He does seem to get the hint that it does hurt, however, and quits poking at it, a moment of silence. “I’m a little jealous of you. Ah— er, not of the cramping. I mean the tattoo. Not that I want one, it’s...hrm. The freedom to make that choice, I suppose? To have it so blatantly obvious on your skin for other people to see because...because you like me.”

“‘Cause I **love** you.” He doesn’t quite make it through that correction without his voice cracking, which vaguely makes him feel like he’s thirteen and going through puberty again. God, that’s horribly embarrassing to think about. He feels almost as emotional as a hormonal thirteen-year-old. “And I mean, it’s not like ‘ts black ink, so once the skin heals up, it won’ really be that noticeable. It’s pretty small, after all.”

“Yes, but...” He trails off, seeming to struggle to grasp the words to voice his feelings. Mondo gives him a few minutes to sort out his thoughts. “Sorry. I am making a fuss out of nothing, aren’t I?”

He is far from being able to talk in that regard, being the drama ~~queen~~ king that he is, but that shouldn’t stop him from ( trying to ) be a supportive partner. It’s the least he can do for him. “Please, not even close ta that. It’s important to you, right? That ain’t nothing. Can’t make you talk if ya don’t wanna, but yer the one always going on ‘bout healthy communication. Practice what you preach, man.”

He looks a little sheepish, chewing on his lip. “It is not that I do not want to talk about it, or do not trust you to talk about it, but...I am not sure I entirely have the words for it right now. I think I would like to think about it some more. But I would like to talk to you when I figure it out, if that is all right?” As if he could say no, but the soft smile that he gives him would have compelled him to agree anyways. He swallows thickly. _Why is he so cute, damn it!_

“Yeah, o’ course. Take yer time.” Mondo ruffles his hair. “Ya think it’d help you any to look at my other tattoos?” He says as a deliberate change in topic, figures it’s probably a good distraction— it’s equal parts flustering and flattering to see how quickly his eyes light up.

“Can I?” His expression is pure curiosity, before backtracking slightly. “I mean— is it okay with you? I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

“Wouldn' have suggested if it did. Sweet of ya to ask though.” Shrugging off his coat is easy enough, though he mentally needs a moment to steel himself before peeling off his tank top. He considers twisting to best show off his tattoos, but stops when he realizes Kiyotaka’s staring at his chest. It’s almost uncomfortably scrutinizing in a way that would probably make him self-conscious if it were anyone else, but Mondo can guess the question on his mind before he even voices it. “Hurt like a bitch ta get it done, but the scars don’t hurt anymore. Ya can touch if you wanna.” He offers, sitting back on his bed as the other moves in closer.

“It looks painful. But not bad.” Translation: your scars don’t make you ugly. Cool? Cool. He’s going to try and not cry like a weakass bitch just because Kiyotaka thinks he needs to be validated ( in all fairness, he’s not wrong ). His fingers brush against the scars at his side for a brief moment, a quiet hum under his breath, before dragging his hand up to his shoulder blade. “What about this mark?”

“Ah, uh. Don’t really remember, ‘ts from when we were pretty young? Must’ve done something ta piss off our old man as per usual, but I just remember Daiya bein’ pretty livid over the whole thing. ‘Cause like, how worthless d’ya gotta be to raise a hand to a chick, let alone yer own kid...? Ain’t like it was a one time thing either, but it must’ve been extra bad that time.” Weak ~~girl~~ child can’t defend themself— his gaze goes glassy for a moment, staring up blankly at the ceiling so that he doesn’t need to see Kiyotaka’s ~~pity~~ empathy. The feeling of lips ghosting over his skin forces him back to reality and away from lingering on dark memories; tugging him into sitting in his lap. “Think I remember him sayin’ it was an accident but...I don’t think it was. Probably what got Daiya worked up ‘bout it.”

“I see. Thank you for telling me. It does not sound easy to talk about, truthfully.” His hand drops lower, further down his back, gently caressing the skin. When he handles him like this, so gently, Mondo has to swallow back the instinctive bite, the self-loathing scorn. That you don’t need to be handled like some dainty fragile girl. He reminds himself that Kiyotaka has never seen him as anything but a ( strong ) man, and this is a gesture of love. “And this is for...?”

His breath catches in his throat for a moment and forces himself to nod. “Yeah. That’s Daiya’s...” There had been no scar from the accident— he hadn’t been the one to get hurt, after all. He needed some monument on his skin to prove his brother had existed in his life, once.

Carry some part of him on his skin just like how he carries his ~~burden~~ promises on his back.

Kiyotaka hums in understanding, carefully tracing the lines. “It’s good, I think. It seems fitting. I never knew him, but I think he would like it. Is that okay to say...?”

He bites back a bark of laughter. “Ya said it anyways, Kiyotaka; ‘m not sure if it makes a difference at this point. ‘ts okay though. I like yer honesty.”

He laughs along with him, softly. "I suppose you have a point. But I would want to know if I said something insensitive, truthful or not!"

"Think yer more likely to think you’ve said something worth apologizin’ over than actually say something wrong.” He waves him off. “I’ll tell ya if you do, but it ain’t really that big of a deal. I mean, have ya heard some of the shit I say?”

“That’s not quite the same!” He disagrees rather vehemently. “You were brought up with values that you are trying very hard to unlearn. I contrast, I just did not learn certain sensibilities in the first place...despite my best efforts.”

Mondo can agree with that: they aren’t the same, because he’s always the worse one between the two of them. Not the point Kiyotaka was trying to make, nor is it one he’d agree with, so he keeps his mouth shut because he can see the frown emerging on his face. “Well, maybe.” He concedes, distracting him with a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Guess ‘ts a good thing we’re stuck together, we can keep each other in check. Right?”

( Urgh, he hates those words as soon as they leave his mouth. It’s so— cringy? Clingy? )

Unsurprisingly, Kiyotaka doesn’t seem to think that at all; enthusiastic in both his agreement and in the way he eagerly leans up to return the gesture with a not at all quick kiss on the lips.

Red— his face burns red with both embarrassment and from running out of breath—

But if this is the future he has to look forward to, maybe it won't be half bad.

* * *

Red is the color of the sky as the world comes to an end around them.

And in vivid contrast, their faces are pale as they are faced with the reality of what their lives will become. Which he supposes is just a roundabout way of saying their futures seem pretty bleak. A temporary setback, Kiyotaka argues; but given that there’s no guarantee that they’ll ever get to go back ( let alone that there’ll be anything left out there _if_ they do ), he really just thinks it's bullshit. Not that he says that aloud, because it might be bullshit, but it’s hopeful bullshit, and he’s pretty sure that’s all that keeps all of them together some days. Some days even that is not enough, try as he might to stay resolute in the face of an uncertain future: those days, the whites of his eyes are nearly as red as his irises are.

Those tears are shed only in the solitude of their own rooms, not out of fear of showing weakness, no— that is not something Kiyotaka has ever feared ( he had been the first to cry when the news was broken to them, but now, now he tries to help hold together the frayed strings of everyone’s sanity and does not have time to feel pity for his own losses ). The whispered _I love you I love you I love you_ as he presses kisses into his neck makes him feel like it’s just a bad dream even if silently, they are all slowly beginning to get used to their new normal.

Chips of wood shavings pile up on the floor as if to remind himself whatever might happen, he has a future to build towards.

“If we get out,” Mondo murmurs, three months into their self-imposed confinement. Red eyes peer up at him curiously, a soft hum of acknowledgement as his hands sweep through his undone hair. “When we get out, Imma marry you so hard. Swear on it.”

Kiyotaka’s hands come to a sudden still. “I...” He starts, stops, brows furrowing in consideration before slowly resuming the motion of his hands brushing through his hair. “Putting aside any legal issues with that aside— what if we do not...?” He says, a rare acknowledgement that, perhaps this arrangement is less temporary than he would lead everyone to believe; before adding on, “I think you will run out of patience waiting before then.”

Ah. Well. He’s not wrong, but jabs a finger into his side lightly in revenge. He’s not really upset, not when he can practically taste the happiness rolling off him in waves. “Hey, trying ta make ya feel better here. Fine, we’ll give it three years, then?”

He considers this, fingers twisting absently. “That still seems like it would be a long wait by your standards.”

“Yer worth the wait!” He blurts out before he can really process that thought, and almost immediately groans at himself, covering his face with his hands to hide his flustered expression. “Tryna be romantic here, could ya give a guy a break?”

“Is that so?” Mondo doesn’t even have to see him to know he’s amused, hands fighting to pry them away from his face— he gives in after a few minutes, because Kiyotaka’s leaning in to try and kiss him and there’s no way he’s passing that up, even if he embarrassingly whines into it. “That’s a yes, by the way— on the condition you do not give permission to let Kuwata-kun officiate it.” He mutters against his lips a few minutes later. Mondo snorts.

“Hell no, Kuwata would never let us live it down if we let him do that.” As if they need to give Leon one more thing to brag about. “Ya reckon Fukawa would be more qualified? If we had ta pick someone, I mean— she likes writin’ all that romantic shit, right? You think she’s done the research ‘nd shit? Though I guess if we’re turning ta that, the library would be enough of resource fer anyone.”

He flinches. “Well, in theory, probably. But with our luck we would end up dealing with Syo-kun instead.”

“What, ya saying you don’t think it’d be incredibly romantic to say our vows to Syo’s cacklin’ as background noise?” He drawls, though can’t help but make a face at the thought. “So Kirigiri would probably be the next best choice, huh?”

“Hm? Well, I suppose Headmaster Kirigiri would be the most qualified out of all of us...” He muses, thumb stroking his cheek. Mondo leans into the gesture and opts to not point out the fact that he’d meant their classmate and not the headmaster because honestly that seems _way_ more reasonable— god, why did Kiyotaka have to be so smart and sexy, while he’s stuck over here like a dumbass.

He can’t help but think about Daiya at times like these. What he’d think about all this. How unfair it is that Mondo can talk about the future with his boyfriend, something that his brother will never get to experience, nor get to see him through. Bites down the bile rising in his throat as the voice in his head taunts him for being such a girl in the end— girls are the ones who are supposed to worry about things like getting married because there’s a clock ticking and time is always running out: and maybe that sentiment feels extra true right now, locked inside while the world around them burns to the ground and dies out and when he closes his eyes he’s stuck in the headlights, seeing his life flash before him, so maybe he should accept that he's never really been a ( good ) guy.

( Wait. Shit. Did that technically count as a proposal? Should he consider Kiyotaka his fiancé instead of his boyfriend? Time to add that to the list of experiences he has irrevocably stolen from Daiya )

He should probably voice some of these thoughts aloud so he can work through them in a healthy way with Kiyotaka, especially given that he can’t exactly go to talk to a therapist anymore. Or be forced into talking to one. But that’s always so exhausting and he doesn’t think mentally he wants to taint this moment with his bullshit. Mondo will let himself be ( weak ) small and press into the crook of his arm for a moment and make a mental note to let him validate his identity later. Yeah, he can trust him to do that.

Instead, there’s a different thought that stands out staunchly in his mind, turning his head to gaze at him. “Surprised ya took all of that in stride.” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that he wasn’t more flustered. Instead, he’d almost seemed like he had...

Kiyotaka raises a brow, fingers paused in the middle of tracing along his jawline. “Should I not have...? It seemed pretty obvious to me.” He speaks far too calmly for how suddenly agitated he feels in comparison.

“Wh—What d’ya mean it seemed obvious?” He gives himself a mental pat on the back for managing to not scream, and also thanks the fact their rooms are soundproof. Not to jinx himself, of course.

“I mean exactly that, of course.” On the other hand, Kiyotaka seems amused by this, fingers tapping against the side of his face. “I suppose it was not exactly how you intended it to come across, but back when you got your tattoo; that was probably the moment I realized. You were willing to get a tattoo— which was reckless of you to do, by the way— no second thoughts, no regrets for a relationship you had no way of knowing how it would have worked out long term. I realized then that I couldn’t really imagine myself not with you. I didn’t know if you thought the same, but I was willing to take that chance.” Mondo is bewildered by this revelation, but Kiyotaka is kissing the side of his mouth and turns his head to chase his lips. “Besides that, you talk in your sleep a lot. It’s very cute!”

Mondo buries his head in the crook of his neck with a groan— _god, he can only fucking imagine what he’s overheard_ — while the other chuckles through reassuring condolences, and for a whole moment he doesn’t feel entirely shitty about himself.

The life he is living right now feels like a dream— and you know what they say about good things:

They aren’t meant to last for ( bad ) people like him.

* * *

Red is the color of the blood that is expected to be spilled in the days to come.

( Much like an invisible string, the blood that stains his hands isn’t seeable by anyone but him )

Mondo Oowada awakens in a room he does not recognize, with no recollection of when he’d fallen asleep. For someone as dull as him, he manages to put together two and two to figure out where he is pretty quickly. Even if he feels a little blurry on the details as to how he ended up here specifically. Too much thinking always makes his head hurt, or maybe he just had a headache from waking up, but whatever it may be, he decides to move on from it. It’s not the most important thing right now, anyways. He lifts his hands to rub sleep from his eyes, but something catches his eye and causes him to frown.

 _...Huh?_ That’s odd. He licks his thumb to rub at the mark on his hand and— yeah, no, that looks pretty permanent. But he thinks he’d remember getting that tattoo. Or feeling the pain of a new one. But he only draws blanks in his mind, and it feels like it should mean more to him that it does for some reason he can’t comprehend and that _**really**_ makes his head feel like it’s splitting so he stops thinking about it. Whatever. He should move on, right? Perhaps he will find the answers he seeks here.

Like a puppet on a string, he has always felt like he is being tugged along by something out of his control— fate, perhaps. Even now, his fate has been set, and he is blindly following the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

Red— red is the color of eyes that feel so familiar and not, a burning he cannot place at all.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for reading!! ♡♡♡ i left the ending open ended because well. this wasn't supposed to be angst and if you want to take it as an IF timeline who am i to stop you? exactly.
> 
> fun fact, in case you were wondering about that one very specific throwaway line. japanese schools usually don't practice detentions, so even though mondo started a fight with leon, kiyotaka technically can't give him a punishment :P
> 
> if you have any sort of feedback ( or criticisms on some of the themes brought up in the fic! ) feel free to let me know here or privately on twitter/tumblr!


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